


Falling Forwards

by Previously8



Series: Falling in Love [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Midnight ramblings about love, Romance, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Previously8/pseuds/Previously8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Then comes the moment when Nico realises that no matter what, he loves Will."</p><p>Sometimes the simplest of nights are the most important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Forwards

**Author's Note:**

> Partly written while listening to House by the Sea (by Moddi).  
> Also Daft Punk, but we don't talk about that.

Nico realises he loves Will just after midnight, when they're eating cereal and making hot chocolate in the kitchen of their shared apartement.

  
It happens like this: a song comes on the radio, some stupid, sappy, love song. It's the kind that Nico usually hates with a passion, if only because love has never been as simple as a song for him. The announcer's voice says something about how it's a classic just as it starts. Nico wouldn't be able to tell the difference anyway.

  
Will puts down his cereal bowl, grabs Nico's hand, and spins him clumsily. Nico almost falls: the tiles are smooth and his socks don't have much grip, but Will holds on to him like he always does.

Nico remembers it then, that love is complicated for Will. That catching people is complicated. And that saving people, in the way Will saved Nico, is complicated. Love is loss, for Will. It's anxiety and two-in-the-morning panic because _why couldn't I save them, why am I so_ useless.

  
Loving is dangerous and nothing is dangerous like love.

  
There is a moment though, when Will dips him abruptly and stares into his eyes as if Nico weren't all that he is and as though he deserves all that he has, that Nico wonders if Will could ever love him. Then comes the moment when he realises that no matter what, he loves Will.

  
He loves the ridiculous jokes, the awful singing, and the brilliant blue eyes. He loves Will for his realism, his staunch decision to never sway from the truth, and everything else that makes him who he is. He even loves Will's horrible tendency to wake up at dawn and cheerfully make coffee with the radio at full volume.

  
It's a fact that Nico has always been in love with Will-- ever since the very first few dates-- but that's different than _loving_ him. At least, after all he's been through, there's definitely a distinction for Nico.

  
He had been in love with Percy... or perhaps just the idea of Percy. He had wanted to get to know Percy and be with him and maybe to romantic stuff with him (though his 1940's-warped conciousness never truly let him get that far). He had never _loved_ Percy though.

  
In his mind, he contrasted it with the way Hades had loved Persephone: from afar and with intent but no purpose (albeit Nico held fewer kidnappings during his obsession).

  
Loving was a whole other capacity. He had loved Bianca. He had loved his sister with all his soul and knew her like she knew him, that is to say, better than anyone else in the world. Their love for each other had been exemplary for siblings, and the heartbreak caused by the rift between them left Nico with nothing.

  
(Nothing but screaming nightmares and empty cracks that allowed ghosts to slip through along with the self-loathing and fear, that is. Minos had preyed on thos cracks, enlarging them, expending Nico's power. After all, power was more accessible than ever now that he'd experienced loss.)

  
Nico had loved few people like this. He cared for many-- Reyna and Hazel, of course, and Frank by extension-- but loved few. Love was a precious, non-renewable resource, he had learned grudgingly.

  
Will makes him want to renew whatever love he'd expended on people that drove him to heartache. He wants to be with Will, for as long as he's able to be. This is what loving someone truly is like, for Nico di Angelo.

  
Maybe Will sees that something has changed then, because he stands Nico back up, smiling softly. The kiss they share is soft, sweeter than most, and tastes like toothpaste. Will chuckles against his lips, whispers something that Nico doesn't catch, but that doesn't matter.

  
Nico's thin arms snake around his boyfriend's waist, holding him  close in what's almost a hug but more intimate. Will holds him too.

  
Even as the song changes to something less sappy, the two of them sway back and forth in the middle of the kitchen. Will's wearing his Volunteer Red Cross pyjama pants, and a white T-shirt with "world's best bro" written on it (last year's Christmas present courtesy of Percy and Jason). His golden hair is touseled and sticking up in strange ways-- Nico's own probably isn't much better. 

Nico thinks Will couldn't be more perfect.

"I really love you, you know," he says into the millimetres of space between them.

"I know," Will says, and it doesn't sound cocky or dismissive. It sounds like Will, like home, and like understanding. His blue eyes are sparkling, and there's a sort of giddy smile on his face as he pulls Nico closer. They're not even swaying anymore, just standing in the middle of their fluorescently-lit kitchen holding each other.

Will presses a soft kiss into Nico's hair. "I love you too, you know."

Nico looks up at him, a few inches in their height difference, and presses a small kiss to Will's jaw. "I know," he murmurs.

And that's that. The two of them stay wrapped in each other, enjoying body warmth and closeness for a few more seconds before that awful old kettle that Will's mother had given them whistles. They let go reluctantly, if only because the whistle only gets more and more shrill if you let it. Nico pulls out two mugs ("world's best camp councelor" and "veni, vidi, vici, bitch.") and hot chocolate is served.

Love may be many things to Nico, but at that moment, he realises it's exactly this: drinking hot chocolate at 12:27AM, while listening to horrible pop music, and laughing at nothing in particular (but probably a cat video).

Nothing can make him happier.

No one ever will.  


 

**Author's Note:**

> original thought process before I even thought I'd actually write it: _Love was strange for nico. Love was pain because he had loved Bianca and now she was dead. He realises he loves Will when they're dancing in teh kitchen at midnight in their pyjamas because it's one of those nights when neither of them can sleep, and they're eating cereal and making hot chocolate when a song comes on the radio and it's the perfect one. WIll grabs his hand and twirls him and Nico lets out a short laugh because it's just so Will._
> 
> idk if Nico's thought process about love actually makes any sense. It does in my head, and I hope that it conveys to paper but who knows (not meee). I'm also really tempted to write the whole thing from Will's POV. 
> 
> ew why am i such solangelo trash
> 
> much love,  
> -Passy


End file.
